‘You haven’t. You haven’t done anything to upset me. Forget it.’
‘If I knew what “it” was, I could try.’
He was almost out of the door though. The “it” to be forgotten had not even been identified. How was I supposed to put that from my mind?
‘Have a nice weekend,’ he called over his shoulder.
He was gone before I could utter the polite, ‘You too.’
Chapter Seven
‘DON’T YOU THINK that would look cute?’
‘I think it would look insane!’
‘No, it would suit you! You’ve got the figure for it.’
Maz had made it her personal mission to persuade me to dress up as a slave girl for the ball in little more than a metallic-looking bra, knickers and padlockable collar. Now, my body confidence might not be the worst in the world, but that was a flesh-flash too far for me. I’d had some kind of black rubber maid’s outfit in mind, something that at least covered most of the stuff that wasn’t legal to show in public.
Maz and Justin were firmly in Roman mode, though, rifling through togas and tunics to find something that would give them the required patrician air.
‘Instead of those knickers, you could have a gold belt with some material hanging from it, just between your legs, say,’ said Maz. ‘Kind of a skirt, but not. Do you know what I mean?’
I didn’t, so she showed me an example. It looked even more obscene than the knickers on their own.
‘That’s perfect,’ said Justin, looking over from his helmet-fitting. ‘Go for that. We’re a Roman couple and she’s our slave. We just need to get a few bunches of grapes for her to feed us, and a whip or something.’
‘Try it on,’ said Maz, holding out the apparel.
‘Are you sure a Roman slave would have worn this?’ I asked dubiously, weighing the items in my hand. They were so light, I would hardly know I was wearing anything, the “metal” really no more than moulded plastic. ‘Looks more like Princess Leia when she was Jabba the Hutt’s prisoner to me.’
Justin snorted.
‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘That might just be a little fantasy of mine come true. Go on, Keris. We’ll love you for ever if you wear it tonight.’
Eternal love was quite a good payback for a few hours freezing my arse off in a skimpy costume. I removed my underwear and let Maz help me clip on the bra. When I say “bra” I’m using the word loosely. It appeared to be a pair of golden strips, plunging in a V-shape to just cover my nipples while the rest of the cup was sheer spangly gauze.
Around my hips sat the gold leather belt, two swathes of spangly goldy stuff falling between my thighs at front and back. Behind the waterfall skirts – nothing. I was bare. A hand would only have to brush the material aside to display my naked bottom or pussy. I would need to tread carefully, that was for sure.
The outfit was completed with slave bands for my wrists, ankles and upper arms, and – of course – the coup de grâceof the lockable collar with chain lead.
‘Mmm,’ said Justin, drawing near and grazing his knuckles over my collarbones, just where the chain links hung. ‘That’s you. Stripped, chained and ready for use. And boy, are you going to get used tonight.’
The shopkeeper knocked at the fitting room door.
‘Is everything OK in there? Do you need any help?’
‘Shall I ask for his help?’ whispered Justin. ‘Shall I ask if he wants to inspect you?’
‘No!’ I hissed back, to my friends’ amusement.
‘You might not get the chance to say no tonight,’ Maz warned me. ‘Not if you want to stick to what we discussed during the week.’
What we discussed during the week. My chest tightened underneath the tiny bra top and my clit woke up.
‘We’ve picked our costumes,’ Maz sang out. ‘Just coming to pay for them.’
In the hotel room, we dressed again, this time surrounded by luxury and history instead of cheap felt carpeting and plasterboard walls. Justin had bought a new martinet at Shepherds Bush Market and w